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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/30028293">all that's dead and gone and passed tonight</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/FallingApplesHurt/pseuds/FallingApplesHurt'>FallingApplesHurt</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Request!! [12]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Brotherly Love, Character Death, Dreams and Nightmares, Family Feels, Fluff, Grief/Mourning, Hair Braiding, Hot Chocolate, Hurt No Comfort, Older Sibling Wilbur Soot, Platonic Cuddling, Rain, Running, Sad Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Technoblade Angst (Video Blogging RPF), Technoblade-centric (Video Blogging RPF), Twins Wilbur Soot &amp; Technoblade, and techno misses him :(((, bro he dead, or regular setting, the SMP tires me</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 23:41:36</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,547</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/30028293</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/FallingApplesHurt/pseuds/FallingApplesHurt</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“Oh god Wilbur.<br/>If Wilbur were here he’d make Techno take a break after teasing him for awhile, hanging upside down on Techno’s bed and commenting on his fantastic posture.<br/>But he wasn’t” </p>
<p>Techno isn’t coping well after Wilburs death, he is missing a piece of himself and makes a hasty decision</p>
<p>——<br/>“Shut up and let me braid your hair” 63 with Wilbur and Techno. Bonus if it's a flashback to their childhood after wilbur's death.<br/>wait wait i'm the anon that asked for 63. please add in "“I’m this close to cutting off all my hair.” too if you can-</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Wilbur Soot &amp; Technoblade</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Request!! [12]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2166276</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>95</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>all that's dead and gone and passed tonight</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Mmmmm Wilby is dead and Techno isn’t vibing<br/>:((((<br/>F</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Techno felt like he was watching himself in a painting, a shitty, hazy painting. One where the artist got frustrated and gave up halfway through, smearing the paint up and down and across the canvas in rage.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He couldn’t focus- the smudges on his glasses were distracting and unwanted tears building up in his eyes were blurring the words on his assignments together.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The sky was screaming, the wind whipped at the trees and slapped at the house, thunder shook the clouds and lightning slipped through the cracks. It was raining so hard Techno couldn’t see out his window.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sharp and painful feelings that he tried so hard to crush were bubbling up along with tears in his eyes- he couldn’t do this. He had at least 3 assignments due at midnight and 2 missing ones that he couldn’t find the motivation to do, he should probably shower, he felt gross- and the rain made him think of Wilbur-</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Oh god Wilbur.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>If Wilbur were here he’d make Techno take a break after teasing him for awhile, hanging upside down on Techno’s bed and commenting on his fantastic posture.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He jammed his hands in his hair, nails getting caught on the tangles and coating his hands with grease, pulling and digging his fingers into his scalp. This was the last thing he wanted to think about was Wilbur- fuck- his stupid fucking hair was getting in the way.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Phil had tried to get him to take care of it again but even brushing his hair felt like a hassle and Wilbur wasn’t there to braid it. Techno knew how to braid and care for his own hair- but Wilbur would always do it- he used to.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His chest was tight- ribs mending together and crushing his lungs- no he had to focus- just get these assignments done- the thunder cracked outside again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tears burned his face, he was tired, </span>
  <em>
    <span>so </span>
  </em>
  <span>tired, he knew he didn’t have the right to be but he was- he went to grab his pencil only to accidentally jerk at his hair again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He snapped, shoving his papers and books off the desk, jumping up so fast his chair fell over.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Techno pushed his door open and stomped into the bathroom, rummaging through the drawers in the dark like a mad man, washcloths and toothbrushes and bandaids being shoved aside until he found the scissors.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He grabbed a chunk of his hair- yanking it so he could see it better- and lined the scissors up. He paused, tears clouding his vision to the point where he could barely see himself- did he really want to get rid of it? Of something that took so long to grow- something Wilbur liked so much? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His eyes flickered to the small nightlight on the wall.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He bit his tongue and sliced through his hair.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Iron filled his mouth as he threw his hair on the floor, snipping wildly at the other parts, ripping them away, feeling the jagged ends brush against his face and neck.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Techno dropped the scissors, he stumbled out of the bathroom and back towards his room- it felt unfamiliar but homey at the same time- it smelled like dust and ink.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He collapsed on the already made bed, it was soft and enveloped in him in a cool but familiar sheet of grief. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He wrapped his arms around the pillow, that smelled like the shampoo that Wilbur had insisted on using, holding it to his chest, and somehow fell asleep.</span>
</p>
<p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“You’ve been sitting there for the last 3 hours, I thought you’d be finished by now.” Wilbur commented, flopping down on Techno’s bed.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Shut up.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Wilbur snorted, “You’re in a mood.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Techno gripped his pencil tighter, “Go away- I’m busy.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“You’ve said that a lot recently-”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Cause I’ve been busy so fuck off!”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Wilbur rolled off the bed, setting his hand on Techno’s shoulder, “You need a break-”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“I need to finish this project-”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“It’s due on Monday, you’ll still have the rest of the weekend to finish it, now come on, we’re going on a walk.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“But it’s raining,”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“So? That’s what makes it fun, besides it's basically summer so it’s warm.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Techno let Wilbur drag him out of his room, past Tommy who was passed out on the couch with the TV blaring, and through the kitchen towards the garage.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Leave your shoes.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“What?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Walking barefoot in the rain feels much better than with shoes, now come on! You’re so slow!”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>They walked out of the garage and were immediately pelted with fat drops of water as the sky dumped buckets on them. Wilbur grinned and they continued down the driveway and down the sidewalk.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Techno felt like an idiot, walking in the rain in shorts and a t-shirt with his twin, but strangely, he didn’t mind it. Wilbur closed his eyes and put his head back, smiling widely, letting the rain hit his face and drench his hair. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Barely anybody was out, Techno could see faint light filtering from other peoples windows but the streets were clear, he watched leaves and twigs get swept down the little rivers that ran down the curb every time it rained.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Wilbur grabbed his hands suddenly, spinning them around, Techno was barely able to stop himself from falling.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“What-”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Come on Tech! Move your feet, get your blood flowing!” Wilbur twisted them around again, laughing. His laugh was like little drops of sunlight in the sea.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Techno snorted, trying to keep up with Wilbur’s rapid pace. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>They spun themselves at a shitty old field by the middle school, where the buses would park over the summer and the people would let their dogs run. The asphalt was gray and cracked, huge potholes filled with water and pebbles.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Wilbur pulled him along, urging him to go faster, until they were running. They ran through the puddles, splashing muddy water on their legs. Techno ran and ran, feeling the wind in his hair that was simultaneously sticking to his forehead, his feet hit the ground so hard he thought they might bleed but he finally felt like he wasn’t wrapped in a foggy haze.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Wilbur nearly tripped twice and Techno couldn’t see out of his glasses but for the first time in months he felt like he could breathe.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Eventually they went back home, creeping through the house Techno went to get changed and dry himself off, once he did he sat back down to work on his project again. Only for Wilbur to poke his head through the door, droplets of water still clinging to his hair.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Oh no you don’t, I just got you to loosen up, you gotta stay loose. Come here,”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“I really should be working-”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Shut up and let me braid your hair.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Techno found himself in Wilbur’s room sipping a cup of hot chocolate, curled up on the bed with Wilbur running his fingers through his hair, sectioning it off for braids.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>It was still pouring outside, rain pattering against the window, the ceiling fan creaked and rattled mixing in with the TV’s soft melody of a cheesy old show Techno hadn’t seen in years. The multicolored Christmas lights Wilbur had taped to the wall were glowing softly but still brighten the room.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>When Wilbur finished the last braid he leaned against his twin, his hot chocolate forgotten on the desk, “Stay the night with me?” He asked quietly, “It’ll be just like old times.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Techno nodded and Wilbur laid his head on his shoulder, just like old times. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Phil had been worried when he woke muffled thumps and bangs coming from the hall but after quickly investigating found that they were safe.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He felt the panic flare up again for a moment when he peered in and saw Techno wasn’t in his room and it was in complete disarray but relaxed when he found him in Wilbur’s room, curled up, fast asleep.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He wondered if he should wake him and ask if he was alright but ultimately stopped himself, he couldn’t do that to him, even in the dim light Techno looked more at peace then he had in months.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It had been months since Wilbur died and Phil’s chest burned everyday, there was a piece missing from his home, his heart, his family, he lost his songbird.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> He knew it affected his other sons too, Tommy flipped between loud fits of rage and sadness, screaming or sobbing softly, while Techno was barely managing to scrape by as human. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wilbur and Tommy were close but Wilbur and Techno had been by each other's sides since birth.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He remembered Wilbur refusing to leave Techno’s side when he was sick and how Techno never missed one of his concerts. The paper crowns and crudely made flags and swords as they decided they were the most fearsome duo that would conquer the land one day.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They never got that far.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Phil knew Techno tried to put on a brave front but it was cracking, piece by piece, baggy eyes, slipping grades, and forgetting to eat. He had tried to help but nothing seemed to be working, Techno was slipping into a husk of himself.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wilbur may have been in a casket but any fool could see Techno was the dead one.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>My eyes burn- have a good period of existence in the universe!!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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